


A Lady's Choice and A Gentleman's Agreement

by maraudertimes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Breakups, Cheating, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Harry Potter Next Generation, Humor, Mutual Pining, Opposites Attract, Panic Attacks, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28410795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudertimes/pseuds/maraudertimes
Summary: Anthony Goldstein has always found Hogsmeade in the summer to be quite... boring, without the students around to liven it up. That is, until Ryan Verity races in on her broom and turns his life upside down. While Anthony follows after her, desperate to feel alive again after a war that took too much from him, he manages to fall - but if he ends up in Wonderland or in Ryan's bed is yet to be determined.
Relationships: Anthony Goldstein/Original Female Character(s)





	1. Beer

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [shenanigans](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4202808) by [beeezie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeezie/pseuds/beeezie). 



> Written for down-in-flames' drunken shenanigans challenge, hotel california's most overused line challenge, clevernotbrilliant's ts8 at midnight challenge, and lebensmude's derry girls quote challenge, as well as for abhorsen./beeezie, who inspired this story with her Professor Goldstein with whom I am in love with ;)

Anthony sat at the bar, his now warm beer resting between his hands, the condensation creeping down the ends of his sleeves. The good thing about renting a room in Hogsmeade during the school year was that he didn't have to stay at the castle unless he was working. The bad thing was that during the summer, the sleepy little village was exactly that - sleepy. The only excitement the village got was when students were permitted to visit, and the inhabitants lit up at their arrival. Money to be spent, young faces that smiled at you, wonder from the younger ones, and even some of the older ones, usually muggleborns, who never got over the excitement of magic.

But in the summer it held almost no appeal. Certainly the aesthetic of the town was quaint, but there were only so many times he could charm Veranda, the older woman who ran The Magic Neep, and only so many new books that Tomes and Scrolls would have. He could leave the town, of course; visit his friends and explore the world. Anthony Goldstein just didn't have that spark in him for adventure, not anymore.

After the war it had taken years before he was able to calm the anxiety that plagued him. Years before the thought of returning to Hogwarts didn't have him curled up in the back of his closet, heart racing and breath shallow. Years before a sound in the night didn't have him tightening his grip on his wand and bolting up, casting spells around his room (and effectively ruining anything of value he once owned).

When he had to move out of his previous home (due to the aforementioned destruction), the only place that would take him was The Hog's Head Inn, and although the looming presence of the castle that held so many bad memories for him caused many a sleepless night, the owner didn't mind the nightly screams and that one time he accidentally set fire to the place. The gruff old man had just sighed and wrapped Anthony in an embrace when he had run in, a grounding rock that Anthony had clung to for almost an hour before letting him go.

Now, Aberforth was cleaning a glass behind the bar, much like the first time Anthony had come here. The old inn owner never seemed to do much else, other than polish glasses and serve drinks, but then again he was never asked to, Anthony surmised.

The door to the inn flew open, a gust of warm wind rushing through and sending shivers down Anthony's spine. He didn't bother to turn, as none of the residents of the town were particularly great drinking buddies. They were all somewhat elderly, all of them wanting to talk about either of the wars they'd seen, and Anthony didn't particularly like that subject. He liked Aberforth in that regard. The man rarely spoke, and when he did it wasn't of war.

"I'll have what he's having," an unfamiliar voice trilled as the seat next to him was suddenly taken.

Anthony glanced over and was surprised to see a new face. There were no new faces in Hogsmeade during the summer, although if there were to be, he was glad this was the face. The woman beside him had striking eyes and a warm smile, her short hair a complete mess, yet somehow elegant as it hung loosely around her shoulders.

If Aberforth was surprised by the newcomer he didn't show it, and instead brought the woman her drink, then went back to his glasses. Although if Anthony wasn't hallucinating, he would've sworn the old man had winked at him. Surely Aberforth wasn't suggesting Anthony talk to this woman? Then again, he doubted she'd be interested in making conversation with the oh-so-eloquent bartender, or Aloysius, Veranda's curmudgeonly husband who was sat in one of the far booths.

Thankfully, he didn't have to start the conversation, as the woman seemed to realize he was the most talkative of the pub's current patrons.

"By Merlin's saggy left tit, it's been a long week." Then again, perhaps Aloysius would enjoy her company. She certainly had the vocabulary to keep up with him. "Next time someone asks me for help with childcare, that's gonna be a big ‘N-O' from me," she continued.

"Childcare?" Anthony's brow furrowed as he tried to remember if any of the village's residents had children, but he was by far the youngest. Grandchildren here for the summer, perhaps?

The woman held up a finger and proceeded to down her glass of beer, only setting it back on the bar when it was empty, and motioning for Aberforth to bring another. "Quidditch Camp up at Hogwarts. I swear the students are the spawn of the devil - one of them asked me if I had grandkids. Me! Do I look that old?"

Anthony knew from his own grandmother that you never assume a lady's age. Best to just keep it as vague as possible. "Not at all. Barely old enough for kids of your own."

"I overheard another asking his friend how far down his throat he could get his broom, which I obviously put a stop to," she continued, only acknowledging Anthony with a nod and a subtle smile. "Had to threaten them with no medical attention should they get a splinter in their throat."

"But brooms don't cause splinters..."

"And would you believe thirteen year olds don't know that yet?" The woman smiled, a dangerous sparkle in her eye as she thrust out her hand expectantly. "The name's Ryan. Ryan Verity."

Anthony reached out and grasped it, surprised at how calloused her palms were, although if she was a flying instructor, he supposed he shouldn't be. "Goldstein. Anthony Goldstein."

"So Goldstein, how do you feel about adventure?"

* * *

After a long walk back up to Hogwarts, Anthony found himself teetering dangerously close to the edge of the Astronomy tower, his arms wrapped around Ryan's waist. Her hair, while short, was being whipped back and forth by the wind, hitting him in the face, but if he had a complaint it was silenced by his fear. They were both scrunched into a crate Ryan said had been delivered the night before to the kitchens, and indeed he noticed a few stray sprigs of basil tucked between the wooden slats.

Ryan had called this "Crate Racing", but after her demonstration had her racing down the tower in her crate and plummeting to the ground below, only straddling her broom and doing a quick 180° spin right before she would have hit the ground (and notably before the crate even touched the grassy knoll below), he refused to do it alone. He was desperately in need of something interesting, that was for sure, but this daredevil of a woman seemed to think that meant he wanted to narrowly escape death.

Even when he refused to Crate Race on the basis that he wasn't a good flyer, she'd shoved him in this larger crate, sat down in front of him, and instructed him to hold on tight before summoning her broom in with them. Which was where they were now, trapped together so closely that Anthony could barely move.

Ryan's head leaned back, and a strange knot in Anthony's stomach tightened as she turned to face him, their noses just barely touching. "You ready?"

Anthony just nodded, tightening his grip around her waist and settling his head next to hers on her shoulder. The crate began to levitate slightly, Ryan's hearty voice coaxing it to the edge before setting it down and...

Anthony's stomach dropped; or rather, stopped existing all together. The crate raced down the roof of the tower faster than he imagined, whistling around their wooden sled. And then all of a sudden, it was no longer there. Once they hit the open air, the crate turned and the two of them spilled out, Ryan's body straining against his hold from the force, but he kept her close seemingly by sheer force of will. As they continued to fall, he realized he was screaming, the sound drowned out by the wind around them.

His heart raced as they continued their descent, the earth coming closer and closer with every second, but it was different than those times in his closet. This adrenaline was exhilarating, intoxicating. Ryan shifted in his arms, bringing the broom in her hands down to straddle it, only narrowly missing a very important part of Anthony's body in the process as he settled as well. Their speed only picked up, the broom beneath them only accelerating them towards the grass below, and although Anthony knew he should be terrified, something about the way Ryan's body fit against his, the sureness she had about herself, had him trusting her.

Another second went by, and then another, so many in fact that a small voice in the back of Anthony's mind was asking him if they ever were going to pull out of this dive. At seeming the last possible moment, Ryan pulled up on the broom, and Anthony found himself wrapped tighter around her (if that was possible), as they careened towards the sky. They rocketed back to the tower, shrieks of laughter billowing out behind them.

"That was amazing!" Ryan gasped as they landed, her eyes bright as she turned towards him. "Wasn't it amazing?"

Anthony laughed, his heart pounding wildly, but instead of the feeling he got whenever he hid in his closet, this feeling was pure bliss. There was no panic, instead there was just a need for more. More excitement, more adventure, more Ryan.

"Incredible," he finally managed to wheeze out, his eyes searching her wild ones. "You're incredible."

She obviously wasn't expecting that as her unbridled joy vanished, her features going slack with surprise. Anthony thought he might have crossed a line before she rushed forward, pulling him down by his shirt to meet her lips. It wasn't an urgent kiss, more insistent than anything. Her hands were still tangled in his shirt, his own having come up to rest on her waist, not unlike when they were sat in the crate. She tasted sweet, like the watered down beer from the pub and something else. Maybe some kind of berry?

Ryan's hands loosened their grip and began to slide down, her feathery touch sending sparks through him as her fingertips brushed on the skin right above his waistband. But before she could slip them under his shirt he pulled away.

"While I'm more than happy to continue this, perhaps on the roof of a very tall tower isn't the best idea?"

And although he meant it as an invitation to continue whatever it is they were doing, or going to do inside, Ryan seemed to deflate. Her wild eyes refused to meet his and she stepped back, taking care to be just far enough away that he couldn't reach her.

"I can't do this. I'm sorry," she whispered, before summoning her broom and leaving through the hatch in the tower roof.

Anthony was so surprised he didn't stop her; didn't even think about it until it was too late. So he made his own way down from the Astronomy Tower and made the walk back to Hogsmeade on his own, wondering what he had done to make the force of nature that was Ryan Verity, back down.


	2. Firewhiskey

The next day, Anthony stopped by the greengrocer's. His cat food supply was dangerously low, and he decided that having nothing in your fridge except a few cans of butterbeer and a rather high-end bottle of Gigglewater one of his American exchange students had given him the previous Christmas, especially at the young age of only 28, was decidedly unhealthy. But Veranda had decided that today, she was going to be his personal shopper, so the trip that should not have lasted more than a half hour was already into its second at this point.

"... and then of course I told Aloysius that my pumpkins were actin' funny, but did he go check on them? No! He just sat there in front of the telly, waitin' on dinner." Veranda stopped in the middle of the idle, her gnarled hand reaching over to pat Anthony's. "Be sure that you always check your wife's pumpkins, ay dear?"

Anthony agreed, although he silently promised himself that he would never marry a woman who was so invested in her pumpkins - he was decidedly allergic! But basil? He could take care of some basil. With that his mind wandered back to the crate he had sat in just the night before, wrapped around Ryan's body. Ryan - whom he had scared away apparently. He didn't know what he had done, but he hoped that he would see her soon enough to apologize. The thrill of crate racing had made him feel more alive than anything in years, and he wanted to experience it again.

"Veranda," he said, interrupting her spiel on the dangers of hanging your linens out to dry, lest a bird come to pick holes in them, "do you know anything about the new Quidditch instructor for the camp Hogwarts is running?"

Although a little old and somewhat hard of hearing, Veranda was an excellent gossip. And her connections with the house elves in the Hogwarts kitchens (she'd been sending her best produce to them for years now, to be used for their own dinners) meant she also knew everything that happened in the castle walls.

"The Verity girl?" Veranda asked, continuing her meandering around her shop. "The poor dear, I have heard some. Got a nasty howler a while back from that bastard of a husband. The elves even found her wedding ring in the bin the other day."

Anthony felt his heart sink. That was why she had been so upset when he had kissed her. But wasn't it the other way around? Either way, she was married, which meant she was off limits. Not his to think about, to worry about.

But that didn't stop him from doing so. When he got back from his trip to the Neep, he sat in the ratty chair near his small window and stared out at the castle, wondering if any of the small dots flying in the distance was the woman that had his heart racing.

* * *

This time when the door to the Hog's Head opened, Anthony looked over to see who it was. The voice in the back of his head was back, asking him why he was so excited to see a married woman, but he quickly silenced it with a drink of his mead. If Ryan felt any kind of unpleasantness towards him, she didn't show it, making her way towards him with a bounce in her step he hadn't noticed before. With every step her hair swung with her, every movement as full of action and daring as she was.

"Started without me, I see," she teased, easily slipping into the seat next to him. "Two firewhiskeys please."

Anthony was about to protest, but as soon as Aberforth put the shots down in front of them, Ryan took no time in downing the both of them, before handing the stone-faced bartender her coins. Honestly, it seemed as though nothing surprised this man. Ryan ordered another two shots ("Don't worry, this time it's for the both of us, Goldstein."), before turning to face Anthony directly, her eyes bright as ever.

"Bloody bastards had me flying in circles today. Honestly, when I signed up for this gig I thought they'd at least have two brain cells to rub together for some kind of spark of intelligence." The shots arrived and Ryan handed him once, clinking their glasses before tapping hers on the bar and taking it down. "And who bloody well names their child _Evanence_? Bunch of prats, that's who!"

"Evanence Blakeley?" Anthony asked, before taking his own shot as well. He coughed as the fiery alcohol went down, his eyes beginning to water. "He's certainly a handful."

Ryan smirked at him, her eyebrows furrowed. "You know that spawn of satan?"

"I'm the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, I know all that Hogwarts students," he said matter-of-factly. Anthony was quite proud of his title, even if he knew his students didn't hold him in much regard. But considering he was stable enough to hold down a position, let alone one where he could teach his students how to defend themselves.

Ryan, apparently, was more in line with his students. "Oh _Merlin_ , I would hate that! Dealing with those wankers all bloody day for an entire year? Abe! Another round of shots would you, and would you make them doubles?"

When she had learned Aberforth's name, Anthony didn't know. But after the second round of shots went down (or would this be considered thirds since they were doubles...) , he found he didn't care. Instead, all he wanted was more of the excitement that came with being around Ryan Verity. 

"So more Crate Racing tonight?" Anthony coughed out, taking a drink of his mead to wash down the stinging pain of the firewhiskey. He never liked the stuff, but there was something about Ryan's confidence that had him wanting to match her.

Ryan gestured for more from Aberforth, setting enough gold on the bar top for at least three more rounds for the both of them before turning to him and smiling a dangerous smile. "Oh no. Tonight's Friday. I'm not going back to that castle until I absolutely have to. Little bastards are probably pulling all sorts of stunts right now, but that's for Longbottom to deal with."

"Neville's back?"

"I suppose for the camp, though he doesn't help out. Just me and Hooch, although she's getting up there in years, just there for the intimidation factor." Ryan took another shot before glancing over at Anthony, her eyes narrowing. "If you're a professor, how'd you not know about the camp?"

Anthony shrugged, following her lead and downing more of the liquid fire. "Neville knows my summers are my own. I'm not exactly the best on a broomstick either, so I wouldn't have been any help."

Ryan laughed, a sound that quickened Anthony's heartbeat. "Well, you made the right decision I'd say. Can't believe I have three more weeks of this."

"Leaving as soon as the camp's done?" Anthony asked, berating himself for the disappointment that settled in his stomach. "You wouldn't stick around for the school year?"

Ryan set his next two shots and took the last three for herself. They quickly ran through them, with Anthony taking sips of his mead in between his. By this point his head was spinning slightly, but whether it was from the booze or Ryan's intoxicating presence he wasn't sure.

Instead of responding, Ryan reached over and grabbed Anthony's glass. She drank the small amount of mead that was left before grabbing his hand and getting to her feet.

"No Crate Racing tonight, but I've got another idea."

"Thought you said you didn't want to go back to Hogwarts," Anthony said as he stumbled up the path towards the castle.

Ryan skipped ahead, her silhouette highlighted by the moon overhead. "We aren't going to the castle, silly. We're going to the lake!"

"The Black Lake?" Anthony hadn't been near the lake since fourth year, and even then he'd just been in the stands watching the still water as the triwizard tournament task had happened far beneath where he could see. He didn't see what Ryan could be interested in there, unless she planned to find and wrangle the giant squid - something he wouldn't mention unless she did indeed decide that was a suitable adventure for the night.

"Yes, now come _on_!"

Anthony quickened his pace to keep up with her, only slowing as the dark water slowly came into view ahead. "And what are we doing in the Black Lake?"

Ryan had stopped, and as he came up next to her, she turned to face him, eyes shimmering in her wild way, seemingly illuminated from within. "Skinny dipping, of course."

Before Anthony could protest, Ryan had slipped off her shirt. He immediately averted his eyes, choosing to turn completely and stare up at the looming shadow of the castle up the hill. Neither of which were particularly good choices, but he decided the one that wouldn't cause a trouser tent and probably relentless teasing was the better one.

"Oh you prude," Ryan chuckled, and he immediately felt something hit the back of his head. Her pants. Of course. "Well I'm about to get in, so you're good to turn around."

Even so, Anthony waited a few seconds before turning. He walked over to the pile of Ryan's clothes and dropped her pants next to everything else before taking his shirt off as well. Ryan was observing him from where she was lazing in the lake, the water barely reaching her collarbones, lapping seductively at her skin in a way that made his earlier attempt at looking away rather irrelevant.

"Turn around," he said softly.

She smirked at him but obliged, and he quickly stripped, leaving his clothes behind as he waded into the water after her. Surprisingly, the lake wasn't as cold as he expected, and he was able to reach Ryan without so much as a shiver.

As if she could read his mind, she gestured dramatically at the water around them. "Warming charm. Plus all that firewhiskey definitely helped." She punctuated the words with a wink, much to Anthony's dismay.

He had never been this aware of a woman, so intoxicated by the idea of her presence, yet Veranda's words from earlier that morning weighed heavily on him. He didn't like the idea of being so openly flirtatious with a married woman. The optics alone weren't forgiving, but he was mostly hung up on the guarantee of rejection. The last relationship he'd had, years ago, had ended in heartbreak, and he wasn't keen to revisit that feeling.

"You're married," he whispered, but the sound carried over the water.

Ryan visibly tensed, her eyes closing as she let her head fall back. She was quiet for a moment, then responded. "I am."

"Yet you're here with me."

"Right again."

"Last night... you kissed me."

Ryan lifted her head, drops of water dripping from her wet hairline down her face. Anthony's breath caught in his throat. She had wild eyes, he knew that, but here, in the dark of night, the moon overhead shining down in a way that seemed to illuminate her and nothing else, she was breathtaking.

She swam towards him, her movements slow and deliberate, until she was right in front of him. Her hands came up to drape around his neck, her legs wrapped around his midsection, and Anthony was suddenly very aware of how naked she was.

"You kissed me back."

Anthony couldn't tell where his breath started and hers began, but he didn't think it mattered as he pulled her into him. Their lips collided, and like the night before it was urgent but insistent. She was deliberate with every swipe of her tongue across his, every movement her hands made. For the second time that night, he wondered if it was the firewhiskey or her that he was drunk off.


End file.
